Her Honourable Playboy

To his disappointment, she didn’t ask him where he’d worked. And she was clearly uncomfortable chatting with him. He let the conversation lapse and just watched her as she stared out of the window. Actually, she was quite pretty. She had a heart-shaped face, a Cupid’s bow of a lip—and it was her natural shape, too, given that she was barely wearing any make-up—and those stunning eyes. Her hair was in a short, practical bob, and he found himself wondering what it’d look like when it was tousled. When she’d just woken up. When she was still sleepy and warm and soft and off guard, rather than alert and suspicious.

When the food arrived, they ate in near-silence. The stars were out, the food was good and the waiters were unobtrusive. And his companion wasn’t wittering on about nothing and trying to look winsome. This, Seb thought, should have felt perfect.

Except it didn’t.

Alyssa didn’t want to be here. And she didn’t want to go out with him. Not in any way, shape or form. Why?

There was only one way to find out. And he was going to do it her way. The direct way. ‘You really don’t like me, do you?’ he asked.

Alyssa blinked at the question. She hadn’t been expecting him to ask that. ‘What makes you think that?’ she hedged.

‘Because you haven’t smiled once tonight. Not a genuine smile, anyway.’ He frowned. ‘So what did I do to upset you?’

‘Personally, nothing.’

‘What, then?’

He wanted honesty? Then he’d get it. ‘It’s what you stand for,’ she said quietly.

His frown deepened. ‘Meaning?’

‘As a doctor, you’re fine. You do a great job. As a person…’ She shrugged. ‘Let’s just say, if you were a woman, you’d be called some very nasty names indeed.’

‘Just as well I’m a man, then.’

His flippancy annoyed her. ‘Seb, you just hop from bed to bed. What kind of life is that?’

‘Fun, actually.’

She rolled her eyes. ‘Oh, please.’

‘Want me to prove it to you?’ Seb gave her a very, very sexy smile.

One that made her toes curl—or would have done, if she hadn’t known it wasn’t meant for her personally. He’d have behaved the same towards any woman. Seb was the sort who’d flirt with anything in a skirt—she just bet he’d be able to charm the most difficult geriatric patient, have her blushing and cooing and agreeing to all the procedures she’d just rejected flatly from someone else.

Well, she knew exactly where charming ended up. She didn’t want to be there again. ‘No, thanks.’

‘So you find me unattractive.’

She flushed. ‘I didn’t say that.’

He pounced. ‘So if I’m not unattractive, logically I must therefore be attractive.’

Yes. Seb was physically gorgeous. Not that she was going to inflate his ego any more by admitting that. ‘I think you’re an egotist. And you hurt people.’

‘Egotist, I’ll give you. Hurting people, no.’ Suddenly the teasing smile was gone from his blue, blue eyes. ‘I don’t make promises I can’t keep. Yes, I sleep with a lot of women. I happen to like sex. A lot. But my partners understand the situation right from the start. I’m not going to get married, or live with someone, or have a permanent relationship of any kind.’

‘Don’t you think that’s a bit shallow?’

‘Yes. That’s me.’ He spread his hands. ‘Sebastian the Shallow.’

‘Now you’re making fun of me.’

‘No. It’s how I am.’

It was her turn to frown. ‘So why did you become a doctor? And don’t tell me it’s because of the reputation of nurses, and it meant you’d get your pick of any girl you wanted. If you were that shallow, you wouldn’t have had the dedication to study for as long as it takes to get a medical degree—or have made it to consultant level at your age.’

His face shuttered. ‘Medicine just suits me.’

And he wasn’t prepared to talk about it. Which meant that the reason was important to him. ‘Who’s the real Seb?’ she asked softly.

He shrugged. ‘What you see is what you get.’

She didn’t believe him. Somewhere, underneath all that charm, was the real Sebastian Radley. A man she suspected might be a great deal more appealing than Seb the Hon., the socialite. ‘I think you’re hiding something. Running away from something. You’re using all your women as a huge smokescreen.’

‘And what are you running away from, Dr Ward?’ he riposted.

‘Nothing.’

He raised an eyebrow. ‘Come on. You’ve just pinned me down. Because I date a lot, you say I’m running away. You’re the opposite: you don’t date at all. So what are you running away from?’

Too many memories. Scott Cooper. Her own gullibility. ‘That’s my business.’

‘Uh-huh.’ He took a sip of wine. ‘Stalemate, I think.’

‘Let’s drop this,’ Alyssa said, suddenly feeling out of her depth.

‘You started it.’

True. ‘It doesn’t mean you have to finish it.’

He grinned. ‘I like you. You’re refreshing.’

Refreshing? She wasn’t sure if that was a compliment or not. ‘If that’s meant to be a pick-up line, you failed.’

‘It wasn’t. I’m not planning to have sex with you.’

Her face burned. ‘So now I’m the unattractive one.’

‘Actually, no. Though you’re very good at making yourself look invisible. When I heard your name on the winning ticket, it took me a while to place you. You’re attractive, Alyssa. Actually, you have the kind of mouth any red-blooded man would want to kiss until your eyes went hazy. The kind of flawless Celtic skin that looks like fresh cream. Skin that just begs to be explored. All over.’

She could just imagine him doing that. Kissing her for hours, until her senses swam and she opened to him. In every sense. Mind, heart and soul—and definitely body. Skin to skin. Feeling his heart beating against hers. Feeling his mouth against her skin, exploring and teasing and finding out where she liked to be touched, kissed.

Oh, hell. She’d thought her defences were sound. Against Seb, they were flimsy. Amateur, even. One more line like that, and she’d be on the point of begging him to take her somewhere quiet.

She dug her nails into her palm, hoping the tiny pain would clear her head. Charming meant cheating. She knew that. She wasn’t going to make the same mistake again.

‘But there’s something else that I always make clear from the start,’ Seb said quietly. ‘I don’t have affairs with women who are married or attached in any way. And I don’t try to bully or persuade women into doing something they don’t want to do. You’ve told me you’re not interested, and I accept that. I’m not going to push you into having sex with me.’